


Our Only Wish Was Melodrama

by artemis_writes



Category: Dungeons and Daddies (Podcast)
Genre: Angst, Canon Typical Swearing, Castle Ravenloft, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Found Family, Gen, Grant centric, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Recovery, Recreational Drug Use, References to Depression, Some Fluff, Terry is trying, Trans Male Character, Trans Nick, and also family family, do the flowers count as drug use?, grant is sad, nick has middle child syndrome, the omega dads are dicks, the twins are chaotic tm
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-08-14
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:06:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25538512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artemis_writes/pseuds/artemis_writes
Summary: Grant never thought of himself as an outgoing person, but when the events of one For Knights tournament leave him feeling empty, dads, sons, and skateboarding cyborgs alike are left to pick up the pieces. Overtime, they must help Grant recover and figure out who he was and who he intends to be.TW: Grant has extremely depressive thoughts through this chapter and probably through the majority of them. Pleasepleaseplease be careful and read the tags. It's nothing too serious, but it's definitely better safe than sorry (don't mean to sound like Henry, but ya know)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 20





	1. Green Light

**Author's Note:**

> Who me? A song fic in 2020? I would never...
> 
> Fr tho check out Melodrama by Lorde if you haven't already. Each of these chapters is based off the general vibe and concept of a song on the album.
> 
> Anywaysss enjoyyy!

_But I hear sounds in my mind  
Brand new sounds in my mind  
But honey I’ll be seein’ you, ‘ever, I go  
But honey I’ll be seein’ you down every road  
I’m waiting for it, that green light, I want it_

_‘Cause honey I’ll come get my things, but I can’t let go  
I’m waiting for it, that green light, I want it  
Oh, I wish I could get my things, and just let go  
I’m waiting for it, that green light, I want it _

________________

Grant was stuck. 

He was stuck in his own mind, stuck with memories he didn’t want of places he didn’t know, with people he felt too scared to be around. 

Why was he always stuck like this? 

This wasn’t supposed to be like this. Nothing was. Darryl was supposed to drive them to the soccer tournament. Terry was supposed to lead them to a glorious victory, with Lark and Sparrow cheering them on and their classmates sharing a momentous pizza party after everything. It was supposed to be fun. He was supposed to be happy. 

They shouldn’t be here. 

“Grant?”

He shouldn’t be here. To be frank, he didn’t know where the hell ‘here’ was. The last thing he remembered was his father, a flash of light, and then nothing. Darkness. Trapped in a monster he didn’t know the name of for friends he wished he had and a certain cyborg he wished he knew. 

He wished he could be anywhere but here. 

“Grant?” A voice he didn’t care to identify, and a message he couldn’t process.

“Is he okay?” 

“He looks bloody! Victory!”

He vaguely registered a pause in conversation, if only for the moment of clarity it yielded to his mind. 

“Who knows.”

Grant wished he knew. 

Another thing he couldn’t do, another emotion he couldn’t feel. Parts of himself that blocked themselves off since the For Knights tournament, parts that he wished he had, but he didn’t and he was scared he never would. 

He wished he could disappear from the voices in his mind, echoing his failures like a goddamn pinball machine - inescapable and repetitive. 

“Grant? Are you good?”

He looked up.

Terry.

If he could scream, he would. If only he could do something. Let them know how much he was hurting, how he wanted to talk to them, to connect with someone. 

Anyone.

Instead, he only heard a small, defeated voice reply, “I’m fine.” 

It took a moment to recognize that it was, in fact, himself that had spoken. What the hell happened to him? Since when was a rip off Fortnite tournament allowed to get the best of him? 

As the oldest of the group, he was supposed to be the one helping everyone through quizzes with material that was never taught in class, The dedicated older best friend that could beat up anyone who made fun of Sparrow’s bandaids or Lark’s bloodlust. He was supposed to show them the ropes, having figured everything out for himself. He was supposed to know everything, including whatever the fuck had happened to them in the last twenty four hours. 

“What happened, dude?” Nick asked, leaning against the wall. 

Grant looked away. He wasn’t supposed to be the broken one. 

Two pairs of footsteps bounding towards his general direction make him perk up, if just a bit, before abruptly stopping about a foot away from him. 

“Was it a glorious battle?” 

He wished it was. 

“Whoah.”

“Did you pulverize your enemy until they cannot live to see another day?” 

He wished he didn’t. 

“Grant?” 

“They will never rise from the ashes of their defeat!” 

They can never know about real battle. 

“Did you fight? Love wolves shouldn’t fight.” 

He wouldn’t ever be able to stomach the thought of Lark or Sparrow learning what he had done, knowing that battle isn’t about fighting to the death for glory that would supposedly change their world. The twins were too young and too innocent, however much they had profusely denied it, to know what Grant’s world looks like now. 

However, they wouldn’t leave him alone until he answered them. If the Oak twins were anything, they were persistent. They wouldn’t leave him alone unless he gave them something to hold on to. Even Nick appeared to be interested. Maybe whoever ended up being the last one to show up to this shit hole meant they were supposed to tell the others an interesting story. Was he supposed to be interesting? He didn’t feel like he would ever be classified as interesting.

He didn't feel anything, really. 

“Dunno.” 

Why did he sound so broken? 

Nick glanced at Grant. “We’re not all love wolves, Sparrow.” 

Why wasn’t he more persistent? Darryl had always taught him to persevere in the face of difficulty and had relied on him so that he didn’t have to eat his skin. Why didn’t he do that properly? 

“Well you should be!” 

He should have done better. 

“Man, we should try to scrape another drawing into the wall, to celebrate Grant joining us. The whole gang’s here, ya know? There’s a good spot over here, c'mon let’s do some damage.” 

“Ah! Yes! We are undefeatable now!” 

He swore he heard the strained nature of his smile in Nick’s voice. “That’s the spirit!”

As the three boys moved to another end of what Grant assumed would be their home for a while, Terry stayed, eyes glued to him from across the floor. 

His mouth opened, as if he was about to say something, but furrowed his brow and closed it again, deciding against it. Awkward silence followed with the other searching for something to say. 

Finally, he saw Terry bite his lip and a look of concentration came over his face which morphed into a small smile. “Hey.” 

“Hey.” he nodded. 

“So,” he hesitated, “What’s up?”

“Nothing.”

“Oh. Okay.” 

He sounded annoyed, like he wanted something else out of that conversation, but he told the truth. Nothing was happening to him. 

“Well? What happened?”

“I could ask the same to you.”

Terry raised an eyebrow. “Uh, I mean, after we disappeared I got picked up by this weird french dude that pretended to be my dad.”

“Ron?”

“No,” he sighed, “Terry Senior.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, so he was...he was apparently faking it. And then Ron showed up and it was...I dunno, it was actually sorta cool. Yeah, he was cool about it. If you don’t think about it too much. But I ended up here. Lark, Sparrow, and Nick were already here and already bored so I figured you would be showing up sometime soon too.” 

A few days ago, that story might have been something worth reacting to, and it seemed like it still might be pretty epic, but Grant didn’t see the point. 

If he reacted, it wouldn’t matter. In the long run, he would just waste energy (though even that seemed pointless). 

“Cool,” he deadpanned. 

Was that rude? Did it even matter?

“I mean, yeah. I didn’t know all that Twilight bullshit was true here, but I guess it is.”

Vampires?

“I guess so.” 

“Yeah. But, uh, that’s not the point. I’m just trying to say that we’ve all been through some fucked up stuff and if you want to like...talk or something, I’m here.”

“Thanks.”

In truth, he didn’t know what he wanted to talk about, if anything. Out of the rest of the group, Terry definitely seemed like the best choice for...stuff, but there wasn’t a reason for him to tell anyone anything. 

He could handle this. He didn’t need help. 

“Anyways, I’ll just...be over here. Lark’s probably bothering the shit out of Nick so...yeah.” 

Grant never realized that he was particularly difficult to talk to. Before this, he had thought of himself as rather approachable, but the foreign tension hanging between the two of them told another story. Was he supposed to respond? 

“Okay,” he said.

He looked away before Terry could force a more detailed response, but he didn’t need to be staring him down to know that he didn’t want to leave him alone. 

Honestly, Lark and Sparrow would be a welcome distraction from his brain, but it seemed unlikely that they would be able to do much other than annoy him. Or worse, draw his mind deeper into the memories he had tried so hard to repress. 

Memories that he wished he could forget.

Memories of events he desperately wished he could change, things that seemed like he would never hear the end of. 

Memories of Yeet, of the For Knights tournament. Of The Hotties in general, and the entire situation that had unfolded in his mind a million times over, no matter how hard he tried to forget it. The idea of talking to Yeet about...any of this was unthinkable. He wasn’t even sure he would ever see the skateboarding cyborg again, and if he were to be entirely honest with himself, he wasn’t sure that would be good anyways.

The uncertainty that clouded his mind and the shame that colored his cheeks, all too real even though Grant knew it was logically impossible, only served to worsen the situation. 

If he turned back to logic, it would be reasonable to assume that being...what he was would never hinder his relationships with anyone in the group. 

His dad though? 

That was an entirely different story. Suffice it to say that Darryl Wilson wasn’t exactly the type to talk things out, ever. After all, everything had always been perfect for him. He married straight out of high school and had a great life. As far as Grant knew, his dad never needed to talk about anything because he had everything.

Huh. Perhaps it’s true when they say that the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. 

In some aspects, at least. 

“All done!” He heard Lark shriek from across the room. “We have successfully attacked the wall and defeated the enemy!” 

Nick cocked his head to the side. “The enemy?” 

“Brother, I think you mean to say that we have used the wall as a vessel for our love for our friend!”

Lark’s face scrunched up into a look of disgust. “No!” 

“Aight,” Nick huffed, “Whatever floats your boat, man.” 

“I would like to sink the boat of my enemies!” 

What?

“Boats?” 

Grant’s brain was racing, but felt frozen and quite useless at the same time, as if a part of it didn’t mind that it was lagging behind the rest. A disconnect that felt so outlandish, so real, so insignificant, yet it grew in a matter of seconds. 

“Yeah! Boats! To sink!” Lark sang. 

“Oh. Okay.” Why did he expect it to be anything different? It’s the twins after all, though Sparrow did seem a bit different. Either way, that was a waste of time. 

“Anyways, what happened with you?” Sparrow asked, eyes wide.

Lark padded closer, dropping a sharp object on the ground, clearly long forgotten. “Yeah! You didn’t answer us earlier.” 

He shrugged non committedly. “Dunno.”

“Well Sparrow and I took over an entire city! It was a glorious victory until Riri and his weird friends came! They ruined our arcanic ritual! We suffered a massive, crushing defeat!” 

Sparrow looked over, seemingly more patient than when Grant had seen him last. “Father was trying to spread the love through Neverwinter! The Doodler would not accomplish that, brother.” 

“I guess,” Lark grumbled. 

“Plus,” he added gently, “He would be boring to fight.”

“Gross!” he shrieked. 

Terry looked over, a smile on his face. “I mean, I already told him that I saw some Twilight ass vampires. Beat that!” 

Nick’s head snapped to their general direction.

“Nobody could beat us! Twilight is for weaklings! We are victorious!” 

“The Doodler’s fucking lame,” he laughs. “Especially compared to a battle of the bands-”

“-Lame!” 

“I have to agree, brother!”

“-Against rival gangs for an axe that has demonic spirits trapped inside of it!” Nick hastily added. 

The energy in the room immediately shifts, beginning with the twins exchanging a familiarly mischievous look and Terry giving a small, encouraging nod. 

Grant didn’t get it.

“And! And I found these cool dudes in the woods with some sick ass drug flowers. They were the tits you guys!” 

“Were they any good?”

“Uh, yeah? Like I said, they were fucking awesome!” 

The door opened. He didn’t know there was a door here. He assumed that nobody else was even in the building, given that they had been left alone for a considerable amount of time. Besides, who the hell kidnaps kids? They were here for literally a week and Grant at least, hadn’t done anything illegal. He couldn’t speak for the twins, or Nick for that matter, but he could guarantee that he and Terry were law abiding citizens for their entire time in Faerun. 

“You know, young men shouldn’t do drugs.” 

The voice came from a rather old looking man, probably around the ‘still believes the earth is flat’ age. He didn’t recognize him, and most likely wouldn’t even without his tryhard purple cloak. 

Nick rolled his eyes. “Yeah, that’s what narks say.” 

“You sound pretty riled up. You should probably calm down.”

Terry and the twins looked over, perplexed by the new person in the room. The twins were oddly silent, but the other immediately stormed towards the doorway.

“Wow.” He rolled his eyes. “Didn’t know there were six of us.” 

The man took a breath. “Hm, neither did I. Did we miss one?” 

What the fuck? Since when was everyone so fucking condescending, especially hwen they were clearly older than them. It felt...rather infuriating. He was angry. He wasn’t supposed to be here, he wasn’t supposed to be doing any of this. 

He wasn’t supposed to kill anything, he wasn’t supposed to take after Darryl. He didn’t want to become Darryl. He knew he wasn’t perfect and that was irritating. He knew that he wasn’t supposed to be him. 

He wasn’t supposed to be here.

He wasn’t supposed to be stuck. And yet somehow, some way, he couldn’t do a single fucking thing. He felt all these things, for the first time in a long ass time, and yet he couldn’t yell or scream or react. He wanted to punch this man’s face in, tell him what he thought, how he wanted to go back home and get the hell out of here. He wanted to get up and show everyone that he wasn’t broken, he was there. With them. Feeling things. 

And now he finally had a fire in his veins, something that had been empty since the chimera, and he still was absolutely useless. 

“We?” 

Why wouldn’t his mouth say more? Why couldn’t he feel anything other than this anger? 

“Yes, we.” 

Was he even there? 

His brain couldn’t muster the energy necessary in order to register the rest of the conversation. The voices around him got louder, then quiet, then loud again. Maybe some of it was directed towards him. 

He couldn’t even manage to get angry at the man again. 

High pitched screaming ensued soon enough. Probably the twins. He wasn’t sure and he definitely didn’t care enough to focus on it. 

Time passed, though it was murky enough for him to not realize how much. It must not have been long. A loud thump followed which could have been the door. 

“Grant?”

Who knows.

He responded out of habit. “Yeah?”

Yet again, he felt like he was missing something. Like he couldn’t comprehend things that everyone else could. 

Like he wasn’t completely whole. 

“Um, it’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

Grant thought about that word, ‘nothing’. It was rather harsh, definitive. Maybe that was him.

“Okay.”

Nothing.


	2. Sober

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> whats in nick's pocket, i wonder?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> omfg okay i don't really have an excuse for not updating in over a month but uh.. enjoy!

_We pretend that we just don't care  
But we care   
(But what will we do when we're sober?)_

_Ah, when you dream with the fever  
Bet you wish you could touch our rush  
(But what will we do when we're sober?)_

_Oh God  
I'm closing my teeth  
Around this liquor-wet lime  
Night, lose my mind  
I know you're feeling it too  
Can we keep up with the ruse?_

________________

Grant still didn’t know what exactly was happening around him. 

It’s not like he didn’t want to pay attention or anything, it’s just he couldn’t. His brain always got stuck, overcomplicating things and going farther into his memories than it should have been. And that was fine, but when everyone started talking about something or other that seemed important, his ears wouldn’t focus and his brain wouldn’t fucking listen to him.

But the worst aspect of it all? A part of him didn’t care. 

Terry had always been the smartest of them, Nick too, if he tried. The twins were absolutely vicious and apparently Sparrow was diversifying his interests. Long story short, they didn’t need him. 

So he stopped trying. He thought it would feel like a weight was lifted off his shoulders, and if he didn’t think about it too hard, maybe it had been, but it wasn’t as relieving as he thought it would be. 

He wished the stress and constant wanting to be a part of the group had vanished, if only partly, but it remained, still clear in his mind. 

In a last ditch effort to minimize messing with anything else further, whenever they spoke, he gave minimal answers. Whenever he had to do anything more than nod, he tried for a reassuring smile. 

From the look on Terry’s face, he wasn’t doing a good job.

But hey, it worked. 

Grant wasn’t sure how much time had passed since his first arrival, but he figured it must not have been long. The strange purple cloaks would visit them sometimes, sometimes bringing boring looking books, newspapers, and food, but other than that, he could never be sure of the time that had passed. 

He wasn’t sure of anything. 

The small window in the room didn’t help. Terry’s presence didn’t help. Even the thought of him eventually escaping and regrouping with Yeet, Killa, and the Hotties didn’t help.

All he could do was wait and think.

________________

He couldn’t sleep that night. 

It wasn’t anything special, but it certainly was irritating since his brain was racing which left him thinking. 

Thinking about Yeet and Darryl and Terry and Faerun. The purple robes and the temperature of the room. How things could be if they managed to get home, the Doodler’s soccer team officially stronger than ever and the Wilson household having another hilarious story about how they escaped the inescapable. 

About home. 

It felt so far away, almost like it never existed in the first place. 

Like it was a dream. 

And he wouldn’t admit it, but he really did miss it. He hadn’t seen his mom in so long. He hadn’t thought of her crazy time travel theories or eaten her shitty pizzas. Game nights were a thing of the past and he probably couldn’t remember where he left his geometry homework if he tried. 

He missed it. All of it. 

Grant missed the chirping crickets he used to hear outside his window on Earth. They’d always be the noise that would lull him to sleep, a reminder that there’s an entire ecosystem independent of him and everything he knew. At the time, it never felt like much, but now, it was just another thing that reminded him he wasn’t where he was supposed to be. 

In the castle, which he had recently learned was just that, everything was quiet. According to Sparrow who had managed a somewhat successful escape attempt before the rest of them arrived, the entire place was surrounded by a moat. One way in, one way out. 

Plus, an enormous ancient dragon did wonders to scare away any wildlife. 

He hadn’t heard it moving about or doing... any things that a dragon would do, but he sort of wished he did. It would be a welcome distraction from his own thoughts. 

“What’s his deal?” A quiet voice broke the silence of the night. 

Grant had to resist the urge to turn his head to find the noise. He was supposed to be pretending to sleep. Regardless, he couldn’t figure out why Lark was up this late. 

“I dunno man, but I hope he’s okay,” Nick said, shifting towards him. 

Someone else sat upright, almost immediately, and threw the blankets towards the wall, narrowly missing Grant. “Yeah. Looks like something rough happened.”

Sparrow too?

Terry cleared his throat. “Well that means we have to be supportive. If he wants space, we give him space, but if he ever wants to talk, you guys gotta be nice. Got it?”

“You’re not our father!”

“I do miss him, though.”

“I do too, brother. But Riri is strong! He will make it!”

Terry held his breath, though he couldn’t see why. “All our dads will. We don’t have to worry.”

Grant didn’t think so. All the dads seemed a bit overwhelmed at the tournament, especially when the weird lizard dude showed up in the mech suit (He would refuse to admit it, but it looked like a badass version of something from his favorite video game, so he was sort of disappointed when the dads went and broke it). 

“Why are you suddenly so confident?” Nick laughed, “I thought you didn’t like Mr. Stampler.”

“Ew no, don’t call him that.”

“But?” he pushed, wiggling his shoulders expectantly. 

Terry sighed, “But he’s willing to uh, what the hell did he...he said that he’d be willing to be the stepfather that steps up. Yeah, yeah I think that’s what he said.”

“His exact words?” Nick sounded incredulous.

“Yup,” he groaned, “Word for word.”

“Huh.” Nick sounded thoughtful. “He sounds like he’s trying really hard.”

He chuckled, “Yeah, I guess. Ron...I guess he’s not that bad.”

“I’m glad,” Sparrow whispered. “Riri isn’t always the best, but he tries really hard to do what he thinks is good. I can tell that Weird Ron does too.” 

“Yeah?”

Grant could hear the soft smile in his voice, even in the dark. 

“Yeah.” 

He wanted to be smiling with them too. 

“This!” Terry exclaimed, “This is why our dads are going to come for us! These freaky asshats are nowhere near their level. Mr. Oak is smart, Mr. Wilson is strong, Mr. Close is somewhat helpful in the right situation and my...my dad is, well, he’s my dad.”

They were so indescribably happy and optimistic, even with their impending doom looming over them. He wanted to be a part of that. To be happy and hopeful. To be a good person with them. 

A loud thump came from Grant’s left. “They will save us! And we will save them!” 

“That’s the spirit, Lark.”

Before he could stop himself, he heard his voice say, “They’re called the Doodlers.”

Terry’s head immediately snapped towards the foreign voice, determination that he recognized from For Knights in his gaze. It immediately disappeared, replaced with something he couldn’t quite place once he saw that it was him. “Grant?” 

“You’re up?” Nick pressed.

He sat up. “Yeah, I guess I am.”

It was sort of nice to be recognized. 

“He’s weak! Sleep is for the weak!”

Even if it was Lark doing the recognizing. 

“Wait, the Doodlers? That’s our team!” Sparrow exclaimed.

“Yeah Sparrow and I made it!” 

“That’s also what they called themselves at the battle of the bands we had. Ron was actually pretty good,” Nick added and gestured at Terry enthusiastically. 

The chant began quietly with Sparrow, but Lark soon joined his brother. Once he had, it quickly became known to the rest of the group. Terry was the last to join, reluctantly pumping his fist in the air. Grant watched from the side, not impressed and a bit tired, if he were to be honest with himself. 

“Doodlers?” Nick put his hands in the middle of their huddle.

“Doodlers!” The rest affirmed.

The cheer hung in the air as the smiles on his friend’s faces began to fade into exhaustion. It was apparent, even with Lark who wouldn’t be caught dead in a vulnerable position as his head began to droop. 

Apparently, Terry noticed as well. 

“Well,” he started, “I think it’s time that we all go back to sleep. I think it’s like, 3 in the morning, and I don’t know about you, but Mom would kill me if I was up this late.”

Sparrow smiled. “Mother would not be pleased.”

“Father too would be displeased with our behavior.”

“Exactly, so we should get some shut eye. Who knows, we might have to fight those purple robed narcs.”

“Yeah, what Nick said.”

Half-hearted complaints filled the room, but there was no fire behind them. Begrudgingly, each child settled back down as blankets were traded and pillows were rearranged. 

Terry found himself next to him as he too began to shuffle around. “Grant?”

He nodded, but realized he probably couldn’t see him in the dark when he was met with a blank stare. “Yeah?” 

“Sleep well, dude.”

He would never admit it, but it felt strangely validating for everyone to look at him, like he was part of their weird little group. It wasn’t the same as before, and it most certainly wasn’t the same as the rush of the tournament.

This was something more discrete, softer, in a way. The simplicity of the five of them; awake far later than those of their age should be in a room much too small to hold them under blankets thinner than would be appropriate for the weather leaking in from the window. 

If he closed his eyes, he could pretend that this was a sleepover. 

If he thought hard enough, he could pretend that he was at Terry’s. He had never been there before. Samantha was only a few steps and a staircase away. Ron too, though he wasn’t sure if that was reassuring. 

Grant must have been staring for too long because Terry turned towards him again, worry clear on his face. “I know I probably don’t have to tell you this, but this is gonna work out for us.”

“Yeah?”

Acknowledging a positive outcome seemed too optimistic. 

“Yeah. I know it for sure. I also know that it starts with sleep. I dunno what you’re dealing with, and if you ever wanna talk I’m here. But in the meantime all you need to do is sleep. Okay?” 

Deep down, he knew it probably never would be okay, but Grant allowed himself to believe him for the night. 

Hope. He hadn’t had that in a while, hadn’t felt its gentle tug inside his mind. It was weak, muffled within his mind and the walls that he had created for himself. If he dared to stop concentrating on the feeling welling up inside him, it would disappear, but he wasn’t sure if that was a risk he was, or ever would be, willing to take. 

It was something and he didn’t want to let go. 

“‘Night.”

________________

“I spy with my little eye something blue.”

Grant awoke to the afternoon sun streaming through the window, bathing the otherwise foreboding room in a warm glow. Under normal circumstances, he would consider this rather calming. Presently, with four hyperactive teenagers in the room, it meant chaos. 

“The sky?” Nick sounded tired. 

Sparrow didn’t. “Huh, how’d you know?”

“That’s the only blue thing in this entire place,” he muttered. 

“Well,” Terry stepped in, “It’s my turn now. So, um, I spy with my little eye…” He scanned the room with something odd in his gaze before he settled on something in the corner where the others were. “I spy something fun.”

Lark raised his eyebrows. “Fun? That sounds like a super lame hint.” 

“Well you’re gonna have to guess it to prove if it is or not.”

Nick’s gaze shifted to Terry’s before scanning the room again, more slowly this time. Grant watched as he spun around, reminiscent of when he used to show up to soccer practice with an odd smell accompanying him. 

He turned towards the window and immediately tripped on his own foot, but instead of scowling from the lack of sleep the previous night, his eyes lit up with recognition. “Terrance fucking Stampler Junior you wouldn’t dare.”

“I believe that I just did.” 

“Whaaaaaat?” Lark whined. “What does he know that I don’t?”

“I dunno, you’ll have to guess,” he smirked. 

He paused which was a rare sight for either of the Oak twins, but quickly regained his composure with a hum and an arm brought to his chin in contemplation. “Brother?”

Sparrow looked a little worried. “Love wolves are impartial to all violent encounters. It is the path that I have chosen.”

“Terry said it was fun! Love wolves like fun too!” 

He shifted his gaze towards Terry who simply shrugged. “Uh, I guess?” 

“Fantastic, brother! Execute movement 14-03 on my signal!” 

“Movement 14-03?” Nick swung his head around. “Execute? Damn, are you guys in a Star Trek episode or what?”

Before he could push the matter further, a dangerous glint made its way into Lark’s eye, but he said nothing. Meanwhile, Lark pushed his way towards Terry who had made himself comfortable leaning against the wall and crossed his arms.

He looked the other in the eye, leaning down in order to do so. “Your breath smells.” 

“Warriors don’t have time for personal hygiene.” 

“Okay then. What do you want?”

Lark grinned. “Nick’s weed.” 

Nick immediately reached for a small wad of something in his back pocket while slowly backing away from Lark. “It’s not weed, little dude.” 

“I am neither little nor a dude!” He shrieked. 

“That’s arguable,” Terry added.

“Well, okay, it’s my turn!”

“For what?” Nick asked warily. 

“For ‘I Spy’! Okay, let me think, friends,” Lark said and put a hand to his chin. “Ooh! I’ve got one. I spy with my little eye something punchable!” 

Nick squinted. “Punchable?” 

“Punchable!” Sparrow screeched not long before he sprinted towards him, arms extended. “Movement 14-03! Now, brother!”

“Attack!” Lark cried not long before he flanked Nick from the other side of the room and immediately launched himself onto his back. 

Nick toppled onto the ground, the twins having wrestled him onto his side. Sparrow quickly moved to his arms and pinned them above his head with a smirk while Lark looted his pockets until he came up with a colorful wad of petals in a bag much too small for its size. 

He looked up from his search. “Target acquired!” 

“Success!” Sparrow let go of his arms and offered a small smile. “Sorry not sorry!” 

Nick looked completely past him and to the clear bag in Lark’s hand. 

“Give that back!”

“Never! I won it fair and square!” 

“No the fuck you didn’t. Terry narced on me and then you two tag teamed me.”

Lark glanced towards Terry who simply shrugged in response, though the corners of his mouth were a little too wide for him to be completely indifferent. “Sorry, bro. But morale is pretty fucking low right now.”

“So?” Nick shrieked. “We were doing great last night! Even Grant was fine!” 

The entire room’s attention immediately shifted to him, even Lark whose gaze had been glued to the bag of petals. Grant bit his tongue and his entire body felt like he was tossed into a fiery barbeque for a horde of sadistic, flesh-loving orcs. 

They weren’t looking at him like they had before Faerun. 

Before, there had been excited smiles and sweaty handshakes when he scored a goal or helped Terry with a difficult pass. But now, there was no recognition in their eyes. 

It was much too cold and distant, like he hadn’t ever been in the room in the first place. 

He would never admit it, but the feeling from last night was incredibly rare, and if he focused too much or not at all, he wasn’t sure it ever happened. He hadn’t even been able to fully open his eyes so why, why would that be the moment when he felt something again? 

Why didn’t anything make sense? 

“Nick.” Terry warned. “Everyone was really fucking tired. We’re still really fucking tired. This isn’t about last night.”

Tired?

Maybe he really was just tired. And everything was a fluke. That would be easier to explain, to admit that it was a mistake and that he had the potential to be whole again.

Because if it simply wasn’t in his nature, he couldn’t be faulted for not being like the other kids. 

Tension hung in the air, thick and much too uncomfortable for anyone. Lark busied himself examining Nick’s bag while Sparrow and Terry were frozen, eyes on Nick. 

The silence broke. “Oh my fucking god, don’t do the Mom Voice you idiot.”

“The what?” he asked innocently. 

He put his head in his hand. “That voice,” he insisted. “It reeks of adult narcs.”

“Would a narc encourage Lark to steal your drugs?”

Nick narrowed his eyes in search of something in Terry’s expression, but softened once he was sure it wasn’t there. “Fair point.” 

“So,” he began, much like a teacher would when trying to get a lecture on topic again, “We gotta do something before everyone goes insane. Agreed?”

Various levels of enthusiastic agreement filled the room beginning with Sparrow screeching with joy and ending with what Grant thought was an affirmative grunt, but the odd look the rest of the room shot his way made him think otherwise. 

“What?” he asked, desperate to break the silence. 

“Nothing.”

“Huh?”

“What?” 

Grant quickly shrunk back into himself when the perplexed stares only grew. Thankfully, Terry had looked his way before he wanted to throw himself out the window and gathered the room’s attention again with a stiff cough. 

Lark’s eyes snapped towards the direction of the noise and latched on to Terry as the only suspect. He didn’t take the other’s innocent shrug as a good enough response and narrowed his eyes in a challenge.

Not one to back down, Grant watched as Terry reciprocated the action, chin dramatically tilted downwards to make up for the height difference.

Terry must have noticed too, as he began to squat to Lark’s height with a smirk which elicited a disapproving scowl that he would never admit scared him as much as it did.

“Nick?”

A rather surprised Nick answered, “What’s up?”

“Back away from the Lark.”

Nick immediately flinched and withdrew his hands to his sides, his eyes flicking from Terry to a particular object in Lark’s back pocket.

Lark spun around, much faster than Grant thought was possible, and launched himself towards Nick. 

“You!” he screeched.

“Me?” Nick asked, incredulously. 

“Yes, you! You don’t get to steal the drugs that I stole from you that you probably stole from someone else!” 

“For your information, I obtained those completely legally, you fucking gremlin. I was working for the supplier!” 

“Still mine!” Lark sang, dangling the bag just out of Nick’s reach.

“Lark,” Terry said, the warning clear in his voice. 

He stopped skipping away from Nick. “Yes, Terry?” 

Grant may not have been at the center of the action in the room, but had paid enough attention to know that Terry had quickly gained the respect of the rowdy twins which made him the de facto older brother of the group. 

The familiar tone of Lark’s response only served to remind him that he wasn’t doing everything that he should for this group and that it wasn’t fair for Terry, yet he still couldn’t make himself address it. 

He couldn’t get up or say something because something in the back of his mind couldn’t stop reminding him that there wasn’t a point to it. 

Everything that had happened already did and contesting it wouldn’t do anything more than bring more negative attention his way. 

It seemed like everything did that. 

“If you’re gonna open it, you’ve gotta share.” 

Lark’s jaw dropped to the floor. 

“So you’re not gonna make him throw it away?” Sparrow asked. 

“Fuck no, we’re all bored as shit.”

“Which is why I’d like my flowers back!” Nick quipped.

Sparrow stuck his tongue out. “Sharing is caring.” 

“Exactly!” Terry clapped his hands together. “Hand it over, Lark.”

He shuffled towards him while muttering to himself something that sounded like an impression of Terry, but there wasn’t any fire behind it. Once he was within sneering distance, he tossed the bag to him and plopped onto the ground.

Terry effortlessly snatched it out of the air and gently opened it, pouring a small pile of wrinkled petals into his hand. “Nick?”

“What?”

“Do you remember what these fuckers do?”

“Nope!” 

He raised an eyebrow suspiciously but was met with an innocent shrug. 

“Okay then,” Terry furrowed his brow. “Whatever, it’ll be fun. Let’s all try the-”

Lark snatched a yellow petal from his hand before he could finish and instantly stuffed it in his mouth. He angrily chewed which would have scared Grant if Nick hadn’t exploded in a fit of laughter. 

“What?” he asked defiantly. “They’re my flowers, I don’t know why you’re so weird about it.” 

Terry glanced at Nick.

“Just wait, man.” 

“What’d you fucking do?” 

“You’ll see in about 3. 2. 1.”

Lark’s smug expression quickly morphed into that of complete horror and disgust. His hand went to his stomach and he dashed towards the window and flung it open. Sparrow sympathetically patted his back, his reassuring words drowning out the sounds of Lark’s puke. 

Meanwhile, Nick was absolutely beaming. “Don’t touch my shit.” 

“I’m gonna ask again.” Terry stared at the petals in his hand, more apprehensive than before. “What the fuck did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything. The flowers did. The yellow ones are for nausea.” 

“Why would they make drugs that make you puke? I thought we were supposed to get high without the addictive part.”

“You wanna get high?” Nick asked.

“I mean, yeah, that’s the whole point.” 

“Aight. Here you go, man.” Nick reached into the bag and gingerly sorted through the petals until he found a large purple flower that seemed like one of the only intact flowers he had.

“Do I just eat it like Lark?”

“Yup. You only smell it if you’re a coward.”

“And I won’t puke?”

“Nah, bro. The different colors do different shit. This one makes you high as shit, but it’s only fun if you take the whole flower, otherwise it’s not strong enough.”

Terry shrugged. “If you say so.” 

Nick watched intently as Terry casually stuffed the entire flower in his mouth. He leaned forward as the other finished chewing and sat next to Grant who was more interested in how this would play out than he would care to admit. 

“Just wait, dude,” he whispered. “This is gonna be hilarious.”

“Nick?” Terry’s voice sounded less sure than it had before. “Nick why do I feel extremely lightheaded right now?”

“Side effects,” he shrugged.

“If that’s the side effect, then what’s this actually supposed to do?” 

“Like I said, get you high.” 

“What?”

“High.”

“Nick what the fuck, I don’t feel any different.”

“Bro.”

Terry looked slightly annoyed. “What?”

“Look down.” 

He squinted, but slowly looked at his feet only to realize that they were no longer on the ground and that he was steadily floating towards the ceiling.

“Oh my fucking god Nick you asshole!”

He smiled coyly. “Why Terry, whatever did I do?” 

“Fuck off, you know what you did! I’m fucking floating!” 

“Yeah, you said you wanted to get high.”

Terry cackled, “Well played, dude. Well fucking played.” 

“What can I say?” Nick nonchalantly inspected his nails. “I’m a genius.” 

“Right.” He rolled his eyes, but the small angle on the corner of his lips revealed that Terry was anything but annoyed, however much he attempted to hide it. 

“Speaking of, the genius senses someone’s missing out on the fun,” He sang, his eyes drifting too close to Grant for comfort. 

“What?” 

“I know you were paying attention! Do you want one?” 

He shifted under the combined gaze of Nick and Terry. “Uh, maybe?” 

“Okay, well here’s a free disclaimer; most of these are pretty boring minus the purple and white ones.”

“The white ones?” 

Nick’s face lit up. “Yeah! They’re super popular back at the base for truth or dare games since you sort of have to tell the truth. A really quick sniff and you’re good for about a minute or so.”

“Oh.” 

The last thing he wanted was to be forced to say everything on his mind to the group. 

“Well?”

“Not that one.”

“Alright, well there’s others!”

Maybe one of those flowers could actually be kind of fun. If Terry was willing to let Lark have one, they couldn’t be all that bad. And if they were, at least it would help tear his mind away from thoughts he wished could go away and memories he wished he could forget. 

“Uh, surprise me.” Grant turned towards the wall and held out an unsure hand. 

Nick frowned, but he heard him reluctantly pull a small petal from the bag. “Here ya go.” 

He wordlessly swallowed without tasting it, barely registering its presence in his mouth. Even if he did, he wasn't sure if he would bother wasting time chewing. 

As soon as he felt the petal sink into his stomach, he instantly became lighter and his head grew fuzzy. He nearly fell face first towards the ground from the sitting position, but managed to awkwardly position himself in a way that would be standing if his feet were on the ground as he felt himself slowly rising in the air. 

“See? I wouldn’t pull one on you. Now you’re just floating with Terry.” 

“Huh.” 

The fuzziness in his mind was beginning to clear, but the simple act of floating was enough for Grant to observe the room from his new vantage point just in time for Lark to return from the window with Sparrow who had been worriedly looking out of it. 

“I return!” 

“No shit, Sherlock,” Terry called from above. 

Grant found himself slipping away from the scenario. Watching the rest of his teammates from above made it easier to distance himself from whatever might or might not have been happening with Nick’s flowers. 

Yet again, he wished he could escape his mind and yet again, he was stuck.

To be fair, he didn’t expect that to change. 

Why would it? 

“Grant?” 

He shook his head. “Yeah?”

“Do you wanna play?”

What was Nick on about this time? Weren’t they just fucking around with his flowers? Everyone was supposed to be occupied for a long time. He was supposed to be, quite literally, floating above it all, but as his vision focuses, Grant realizes that he was back at his spot against the wall at eye level with everyone in the room. 

How much time had passed? 

“Play what?”

His eyes lit up. “Truth or dare! I was planning on doing this epic fusion of that and beer pong at the sleepover after the soccer tournament but that kinda, well, you know, that fell through. So we should do it now!” 

“Yeah, it’s like Russian Roulette with the flowers since Nick’s being an ass and not saying what they all do,” Terry explained as he set various colors of petals across from Grant. 

“A magician never reveals his secrets,” Nick shrugged.

Lark’s eyes were glued to the petals in front of him, many of which were yellow. “Neither does a formidable opponent! Your defeat will be glorious!” 

“I look forward to this team bonding exercise. It will allow for us to grow closer as love wolves,” Sparrow declared, “So Grant, you sort of have to join.”

He shrugged. “Okay, whatever works.” 

Soon enough, they launched into a vicious cycle of truth or dare with Nick leading the way. When someone denied their truth or dare, they had to eat a flower which resulted in numerous trips to the window and many attempts at arial backflips. 

There were just enough people in the room to allow for Grant to slip under the radar as long as it wasn’t his turn. Even Sparrow was more energetic during the game which made for a comfortable amount of noise to zone out to. 

In a way, it was peaceful. 

His friends messing around with odd flowers from this weird world. Them being trapped in this weird world with their dads who had lost them, found them, and lost them again. The world that provided the slightest hint of relief in the form of For Knights and quickly stripped it away with the very same tournament. 

But in this weird little room with these weird little people, it was easy to pretend that this really was just a sleepover in another person’s hotel room and that they were staying up late because they wanted to and their parents weren’t there because they were across the hall, asleep. 

In this space, just for tonight, Grant was allowed to forget. 

He was allowed to straddle the line of existing and becoming a ghost within his own team without as many disturbances and for that, he was relieved. 

He didn’t want to let go of this feeling, or lack thereof. 

He didn’t want them to run out of petals.


End file.
